


Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying

by CowandCalf



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Dark Feelings, Drinking, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Life's a bitch, M/M, One Shot, POV Danny, Pining, Season 1, Unrequited Love, in the very beginning of season 1, mcdanno, overuse of the word fuck, painstakingly angsty in the beginning, sweet tenderness, the hour before dawn is the darkest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 06:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowandCalf/pseuds/CowandCalf
Summary: Danny struggles with his inner stability to adjust to his new life in Hawaii. He pulls through for Grace, trying to cope with whatever Life throws his way. On top of all his worries, there is his crush on his new boss and friend, Steve McGarrett, putting a strain on their growing friendship. Danny doesn't know how to handle this situation.





	Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N**  
>  This story is particularly dark in the beginning. My Beta said she was drowning when she read my fic. That's why I want to give everyone who doesn't feel comfortable with such kind of topics a fair warning that at first, the mood is pretty somber, filled with heavy angst.
> 
> I have this dark, ugly place in my soul. It's a wasteland. There's nothing much to find but cobwebs and a cold, bitter wind that blows on-going, swirling up distant memories of terrible times. I can visit this place nowadays without getting caught in the void. It's helpful to write dark emotions though. It happened that I tumbled into this dark place when this idea flashed up in my mind. I only let Danny and Steve roam in their own darkness for a certain amount of time before I dive deep down to grab them by their collars yanking them back up to where the sun shines and life holds beautiful promises and always a reason to go on.
> 
> I experienced a story fatigue with my Highschool AU for the guys some time ago. I stumbled over a Tumblr post suggesting flash-writing, punching the keyboard without a single care about grammar, word order or making sense in what I was writing. I did that, several times. I got my mojo back for my teenager boys Steve and Danny. I also ended up with a raw one-shot, loaded with typos but also with a really nice touch to it. I did the flash-writing wrong (for course I did). I didn't give me an hour to flesh out a drabble or a 300-word ficlet. No, I ended up writing pieces for my long one-shot. So, here you have my result of my successful flash-writing.
> 
> The title for this story is taken from a song by Bob Marley. You can listen to this song here: [Don't let the sun catch you crying](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvftmZAD2W8)
> 
> **Disclaimer:**  
>  I don't own the characters or the show. No profit is being made from my stories. I only claim plot points.
> 
>  
> 
> My story is beta read by my awesomesauce friend [indiepjones46](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiepjones46/pseuds/indiepjones46).
> 
> Thank you so much, Indie, for your precious beta read on my story. Your support is outstanding and unique. I don't know where I would be without you. Your support and your cheerleading for my writing are priceless, so valuable and magnificent. You are my backbone and your faith in me moves me always to the core. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your help and your endless support. No matter how long my chapters or my one-shots are, you are never even bothered, no, just the contrary, you smile, and you look forward to reading whatever I throw your way. This is just extraordinaire and such a precious gift. You always look after my stories. You let them shine with this magical way to dust each story with your beta-fairy-sparkles. You're my rock and you mean the world to me. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> A big 'thank you' goes to all of you who drop by to read my story. You always rock my world and I love you. Mahalo!

Their laughter mocks his nerves. The constant breeze combined with the soft sound of the waves is disturbingly beautiful. Danny clamps his beer bottle between his fingers. He wishes to be back in the fog of New Jersey during fall. The grime from his hometown sticks to his mood as dirty and as unshakeable as ever. It has been weeks now, and it doesn't get any better.

Steve's jaw doesn't show any discolored skin anymore. His bruise has healed, and the sore feeling has surely faded away. Steve's never mentioned the punch once. Danny's fist hasn't suffered any damage and there's no pounding in his knuckles anymore, but the curses don't weaken. They are just as fresh and filthy on his tongue as on the very first day he'd landed in Hawaii.

A new wave of laughter clashes with his body, making him tense up even more. Danny's stiff muscles send a dull ache through his lower back. He chews at the inside of his cheek. A fake smile is plastered on his lips. The conversation is light, abnormally cheerful. A lot of jokes are thrown back and forth like balls and everyone laughs and is having a good time – except Danny. 

He gulps down his beer and waits a polite amount of time until he can't physically take it anymore and gets up. He grins widely at his new team. Chin observes him, as always, with his eyes hovering right at the border of his aura, carefully avoiding more contact. Danny is grateful for this distance.

Everyone else would describe his teammates as awesome. It's a group of people well-chosen. They're all thoroughly trained and experienced except for Kono. She is the rookie on the team although Danny has witnessed already that she's up to every trick. They all have a stamina of some sorts.

Danny has fit in back in New Jersey. He doesn't need a shrink to decipher what's up and why he feels so off with his mood hitting rock bottom every day now. Back in the days as a cop with NPD, as awful as his days have been at the end, he always has come home to his little girl. His daughter has given him the strength to deal with an aggravated Rachel, who has been waiting to rant at him, complaining about everything that hasn't worked out for them. 

Danny remembers the feeling of being replaced by someone else, replaced by an idea of a better life, a better partner. He has been replaced with the wish to experience more happiness in life. He recalls the feeling so well because it's an open, nasty ulcer that won't heal and he doesn't know how to fix this. Danny has experienced too many times in life how it feels to always lose, to always sense something is slipping through his fingers. It's a nauseating notion, something he can't deal with, but something that life forces upon him wherever he goes.

In Hawaii, he's the _haole_ , the newbie among Chin and Kono who are locals. Even his boss, the super SEAL who has grown up on Hawaii, who's family is _Kama'aina_ , has returned home, finding the rhythm of the tides soothing, gaining strength from the early sunrises and swims like a freaking dolphin being one with the ocean. Danny doesn't hate the beach nor the island feeling. He hates the fact of not belonging, this stinging feeling to be forgotten, not wanted, not fitting the fuck in.

He's able to deal with a lot of stuff. His gaze sweeps over his new friends. Kono is all dimples and smiles, flashing her pearly white teeth at him. Her ink-black hair blows in the soft wind and she looks beautiful. She studies him with a pensive gaze, but Danny has no eyes for her. He cares for her, sure, because she's on his team but their friendship is too fresh and his wounds from getting tore away from his home back in Jersey still bleeds. He can't shake this terrible hollow feeling of a rootlessness so deep it scares him. Danny is unable to bond as if he has lost the ability to feel comfortable with people.

"You're already heading home, Danny?" Kono shouts with a cheery voice. "Are we no fun?" 

Danny forces his lips into a smile, hoping he can fool her. "I have plans for tonight, rookie. Tough week. I've had my beer and I've done some group bonding, so now I need some time alone." He nods shortly with his fake-smile so big it hurts when he senses the familiar presence getting stronger, crowding in on him, coming from the person who sits across the table. Danny keeps his eyes on Kono and tries to ignore this concentrated cloud. It's a thickness that drags over his skin, causing all his hair to stand up. Steve is watching him.

"We're going to the beach tomorrow. Join us." Chin offers with an even voice. "It's Saturday, and maybe you'd like to spend some time surfing or swimming. You're always welcome. You're _ohana_ now."

"I'll think about it, but thanks. I'm still not used to all these _ohana_ feelings, spending every moment of the day with each other. I'm a lone wolf, searching for solitary sometimes. I'll show up during the day tomorrow, agreed?" Danny grabs Chin's hand and shakes it.

He means what he says at this moment. But Danny knows he'll text and will find an excuse to stay home because he's kind of sure that he won't have sobered up until then. Danny doesn't have it in him to care. Some patches in his chest are numb since Rachel has told him she's leaving him for another man and that she's moving to the other end of the world and taking his daughter away from him.

Danny's throat is sore. He hasn't felt at ease for months now. He can't fully relax, never. His muscles are always overstrained, and he longs for numbness and for a way to pass out in order to find some much-needed rest. He doesn't talk about his feelings, because what's the point? His lifeline is his little girl. Whatever shit he has to deal with, whatever fucked up day he has to live through, it's worth the moment he thinks of his little girl. Grace makes everything bearable.

Steve McfuckingGarrett makes everything unbearable. Danny squares his shoulders and stuffs his hands in his pockets to step over the bench to be ready to walk away.

"Should I come by later? In the mood for sports and beer?" Steve's voice surges through Danny's body. It's this time again. Danny plays his part well.

"Nope, but thanks. I have plans. Let's do it another time, okay?" He says joyfully and ignores Steve's piercing gaze. Danny waves his hand at everybody. "Have a fun evening everyone and see you on Monday. Maybe I'll drop by tomorrow at the beach." Danny hasn't much patience left. His trembling starts with a soft hum in his head. He clamps down on his keys in his pocket and feels the shivering even in his spine. Everything seems to be in motion. He bites on the inside of his cheek. It's raw and it bleeds a bit. He has used this part way too often to chew on it to calm his nerves for the past weeks.

He has to leave. His stomach is strained, tied up in hard knots, and Danny is painfully aware of every rustle of Steve's clothes. Steve's hotness is intimidating, especially tonight. His mouth had been dry already all day long and he can't get over the fact how attractive he finds Steve and what this insanely good-looking man does to his body and it drives him crazy.

He needs to go. _Now_. "Bye, guys. See you soon and thanks for the beer and the company." He spreads coolness into the air and saunters over the sand. Danny holds his head high and puffs out his chest. He seeks the isolation and the quiet of his car. The door slams shut, and the strangled sob that breaks loose the moment he's alone sounds terrible even in his own ears.

His mood scares him. It's not only the dark cloud that threatens to consume him because he has moved from Jersey to Hawaii. It's because his stupid heart can't be wrangled into submission. Danny recognizes this rollercoaster from every time he has met someone. It happens when he starts to fall for a special person.

And Danny also knows that when he's in love, his feelings are always exuberant, burdening the person he only wants to gift with happy feelings and his caring heart. His love is all heat and always too much. He has been told that it's suffocating, demanding and too strong, forthcoming and not wanted.

Danny is a giver, and in the safety of the bedroom when the intimacy allows honesty, he always shares and shows his innermost, deep emotions. He sacrifices everything and bares his soul to the person who's there with him. 

And he always ends up alone.

He's like a freaking, lonesome mate, who roams the world for his other half, and if he doesn't find his significant other, he's doomed to spend his life alone. Danny knows that he always imprints on the other person and he's always too much to handle. Danny tries to get used to the thought, that he'll die alone, that he's not relationship material.

He desperately hopes he can control his love for his daughter. He couldn't handle it if Grace thinks that her father is too much with how he cares and how he worries. But he can't muse about that right now, because if he did, he could drive right over the next jetty and ram his car into the surface of this insanely beautiful ocean.

Danny drives home. He fights with the shadows lingering at the edges of his soul. He needs a drink. He needs to drink until the piercing eyes of McGarrett blur and mingle into a picture with no sharp angles and lines. He shudders and his air stutters into his lungs. He drives slowly, overthinking what he is going to do. He wishes so much to master the courage to pull through, to set his fantasy in motion and to just go out and take what he craves so much. He wants it so badly he can't breathe.

It's so exhausting to fight his yearning for Steve. He caves, sensing his inner walls crashing down, feeling how his withheld lust presses through every crack in his defense. Danny wrangles with his inner images as if he was a knight fighting a dragon. He can't have Steve although he nothing but wants this guy with every fiber of his body and soul.  
Danny is in a desperate need for rough, male sex with the single goal to feel something, anything but this hollow, bottomless, dark pit in his chest where his heart should be. He wants to be wrapped up in strong arms and pressed against a broad chest. Danny needs someone who gives him the feeling of being safe, to know it's okay to let go. He only finds this satisfaction, this kind of fulfillment with another man. It always has been that way.

The phone number of a guy, who offers exactly that is stored in Danny's cell as a John Miller, real estate agent. Danny has never used this exit easily. It's hard to deal with the fact that he's about to call a male whore to buy some sex and to pay some stranger to spend time with him. Danny hates to just have sex without any feelings involved. The aftermath of such an adventure is always terrible, and he won't be able to look at his reflection in the mirror for about two days. It hurts too much but when the pressure in his chest rises there are only a few options left to make sure he doesn't lose control.

He isn't into self-harm, drugs are off the table, and as a cop, he controls his drinking well. He is a father and he has a responsibility he would never play with. That leaves him with option three. He needs a man who fucks him hard. He needs to feel this pain, to be the one that gives up control. He seeks for this ache in his ass, for the strength of masculinity to yank him back from this darkness that he can't fight alone. And McGarrett isn't an option.

McGarrett is a dream Danny would lust after forever. He has found a substitute, but until now he hasn't had the courage to really ring this guy up. It would be a fuck date with a callboy who looks a lot like Steve and it scares Danny shitless.

Danny knows he's too far gone. It always starts with a strong longing for a drink. He needs this relaxing feeling when his system is drugged with alcohol. He hurries up to his place and opens the worthless door to his rat-hole that is his home now. It's a cheap, damp apartment and still costs a fortune. He bumps into the edge of his bed and drops to his knees. He just bought a new bottle of Scotch the other day. Danny sighs heavily and leans with his back against the frame of his bed. He takes a few swigs right from the bottle. He doesn't even bother to get a glass. He just wants the alcohol in his system. The alcohol burns in his throat and warms his stomach. Danny doesn't switch on a light and he doesn't even take his shoes off. 

He slumps down onto the floor and hunches there with his muscles loosening up, but Danny is far from being relaxed. The tight, hard knot in his stomach is a constant reminder that he won't find inner peace for a long time. Danny's legs are drawn up and bent, and his head rests against the mattress with the bottle clutched to his chest. Steve's eyes are like a secret garden. Danny allows himself only quick flickers, fast glances, and never an intense, deep, thoughtful look into these mirrors of Steve's soul. He would get lost and never find his way back, and he would definitely sacrifice his whole heart just to be close to Steve. 

Danny can't deal with these eyes which change their color in tune with Steve's mood. The soft bow of his long, female-shaped lashes drives him nuts. Why does Steve have to be gifted by nature as if he had been the only one waiting in line and no-fucking-one else had wanted a single thing? This guy is a walking sexual nightmare consisting only of popping muscles, and the pull and drag of hard flesh under various models of tight-fitting, soft cotton shirts.

Danny's hand clenches in a fist and his fingers unconsciously tighten their hold on the bottle. He wants so much to touch these dumb shirts, to graze his palm over the hard plane of Steve's pecs, these valleys, and bumps of ridiculously trained, hard muscles. He wants to feel the scratch of hair from Steve's chest fur through the shirt. Danny can't suppress the jerk in his pelvis and this intolerable heat that pools deep in his groin. His cock is fully interested and lies at half-mast pressed against his lower stomach.

Danny drinks Scotch straight from the bottle.

He hardly can keep himself upright when Steve's eyes land on him, carefully watching him, observing, as if he tries to catalog every twitch in Danny's face (at least that's what he thinks Steve's doing). Danny always feels pinned down, like an insect on a needle, held in place for science, for curiosity, to be unraveled. It freaks him out because he's afraid Steve might find out that Danny carries a torch for him since day fucking one.

Danny drinks alone, sitting on the floor. He finds no strength left to change his uncomfortable position. He fumbles with his phone to check the number of his sex contact. Danny even punches the figures, but he doesn't press the call button. He chickens out because he knows he can't deal with the blow that always hits him after such a sick adventure. It's like flying high as a kite only to crash brutally after the drugs wear off. Everything is so much worse after that. Danny can't do that to himself, not with his critical mood that borders hard on depression. He might slide into a full-blown crisis after such a night. Danny won't risk his visiting rights with his little girl.

But it's so tempting to play with the fire to imagine how it would burn.

Danny repeats the almost-dialing about ten times. The sunset is a distant memory and his room is bathed in darkness, haunted by more than shadows. The only source of light is the street light in front of his window. Danny slumps deeper into a heap of limbs and embraces the blessed buzz of alcohol that numbs the sharp edge of his emotional ache. His curses are slurred when the bottle tips over and Scotch splashes over his floor. Danny closes the opening clumsily only to lose his patience and with an angry movement of his arm, he smashes the half-filled bottle against the nearest wall. This idiotic bottle doesn't even break. He's not even good enough to gather the physical power to break a fucking Scotch bottle.

He feels damn useless. He's just nothing. He counts the days in his head when he's going to see Grace again. He sways a bit and his head lolls from one shoulder to the other. His girl is the only light in a sea of pitch-black emptiness. Grace is his beacon, and he can't lose her out of sight because he's a ship in distress at sea, and he realizes that he thinks utter shit and that he might actually need some sleep.

At some point, Danny mutes his phone because McGarrett's name blinks up repeatedly. He ignores all his calls. He sends a prayer to heaven to finally have this alcohol-cloak around his system, protecting him from agonizing heartache. He can't deal with this guy now. He snickers gloomily and throws his cell onto the nightstand.

Tomorrow, tomorrow is another day, but not now, and he's way too plastered to care anyway.

Danny falls asleep on the dirty floor, fully dressed and in an all-consuming mood of 'who gives a fuck'.

 

The pounding echoes through his skull. Danny hates this sound, it makes him want to curl into a tiny ball, to withdraw into himself, hiding from what lurks on the other side of the door. He ignores it. It's fucking Saturday morning, whoever knocks on his door has no right to stand outside, demanding answers, an entrance, some attention. _Go fuck yourself!_ Danny's mind is slow, and he doesn't even care about his headache. He's used to it by now. The possibility that it's Steve standing just a few feet away makes Danny want to puke. The nervousness kicks in as hard as a brick to the back of his head. 

Danny always despises the aftermath of his drinking. Although he hasn't made an appointment with his fuck-date, nevertheless he feels filthy and abused from his own mind. He has never been the one for a one-night stand or the one who pays for sex to keep his depression at bay. Danny hasn't found a mechanism to cope with that shit. Danny just needs another body to show him that he's still alive and that he's worthy to spend time with. He doesn't want to face the world yet, especially not McGarrett's stupidly handsome face with the most gorgeous smile in the whole wide world burning a hole in his head.

"Danny, open your door. You haven't answered my calls. Are you in there?" Danny hears shuffling and more pounding on his paper-thin door. 

Yes, it's Steve. For fuck's sake, why does he have to come by? Danny breaks out in a sweat. He's stunned to see his shirt and his pants, even his shoes lying scattered over the floor. He can't remember getting undressed. That's one of his lowest concerns now, and he leaves everything on the floor and crawls onto the bed to disappear under his lousy sheet. He flops on his side and smashes his pillow over his head. A meager attempt to shut out the world.

"Danny – if you don't open your damn door, I'll knock it down. For Christ's sake, what's wrong with you?" Steve's voice is stern and laced with edginess. There are a pause and a moment of creepy silence. Danny lies stiff as a board in this bed, heart thumping wildly, and he knows Steve won't give up that easily. "Danno – I'm warning you. _Open this damn door!_ I'm worried, okay? I just want to make sure you're okay."

There's again a moment of breathless silence. Danny's lungs are just about to stop working and he can't even fight it. He holds his breath, dreading what will be Steve's next move. He startles when Steve's body suddenly presses against the door. The sound indicates that he's testing the door's strength and he'll soon find out that it's cheap and has lousy stability. The hinges creak funnily, and Danny screws up his face, hoping he's fast enough to draw up his walls to protect his heart and his feelings from the outer world. Danny can almost feel how Steve's blood pressure is rising and how he gets excited about diving into action. 

Danny can't fucking deal with a wild SEAL this morning. Shit no, _please no_. He just can't face a fully-awake, handsome and worried Steve in this ungodly hour in the early morning when he still feels so sore as if a herd of Broncos has used him like a rodeo round pen, unworthy for any kind of human attention and so sick from his own self-pity party.

It's a knee-jerk reaction and Danny's mind can barely follow his own body. The sudden hot spike of shame ascends like a geyser and fills his mind with blankness and his body with searing anger about everything. Danny grabs the first items his fingers curl around from where he stretches his arms over to the nightstand.

The alarm clock hits the door with a loud, satisfying clatter and bursts into several pieces, broken by the forceful impact against the hard surface. "Leave me the fuck alone! You have no right to disturb me on a Saturday morning." Danny tries to yell, but his horse shouts scratch in his throat. "Go away, Steve, and don't come back. Leave me the fuck alone!" He wraps the sheet around his body. He needs some layer to shield himself from Steve's heat, from his omnipresent hovering at the borders of his personal space. Steve has this terrible need to check on his team members whenever his intuition speaks to him, always showing up _right on time_.

The splinter of wood leaves a crack in the air. Danny groans painfully and defeated because his head is splitting in half. _Jesus_ , that sound hurts. His brain is still numbed and he's terrible at pulling himself together with the result of knocking down half a bottle of Scotch last night, his best friend since he's landed on Oahu. Danny knows he has a serious problem but he's not ready to face it. The time without Grace is brutal for him. It always leaves him with this huge hole in his life after the heavenly time of his precious, but strictly-controlled hours with his little girl. Danny hasn't found a mechanism to prevent him from falling into a depressed, dark mood after the weekend days with Grace.

His door gets kicked open. The hair on the back of Danny's neck stands up, and waves of anger ripple through his rigid body. _What the actual fuck?_ Did Steve just break into his apartment? Danny's mind reels and his throat is as dry as a desert. He feels sick from all the adrenalin his body pushes through his veins.

He hears Steve walking in and then Steve kicks hard against the metal frame of his improvised bed. The screech and the scraping of the metal frame that gets shoved over the floor make Danny growl with rage. The kick shakes him like a forgotten rag doll. The pillow flies in one direction. Danny's hands fight with the bunched-up sheet around his hips. He pulls with a rising madness and the fabric tears apart at one point.

Steve hasn't said a word so far.

Danny freaks out. "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm not in a dumbass boot camp and you can't just bust through my door, breaking my lock, and think I'm okay with that. This is a violation of my privacy. _For fuck's sake, Steve._ " Danny yells, voice sharp as a knife, still wrestling with the stupid sheet. 

"You could have opened your damn door like every normal human being after I knocked so many times my knuckles feel sore." Steve has the impudence to snort as if it's Danny fault that he has to kick in his door. Steve inhales sharply and there are a tiny break and a moment of hesitation.

Danny doesn't want to look at Steve, but he can't seem to help himself. He stares at his chest. He waits until Steve gets it all out. "Calm down, Danny. I was worried okay? I wanted to check on you. See how you're doing. I know you don't have many people around. We're _ohana_ and that means something." Steve's posture is still impeccable. "I look out for my team, remember that. If you didn't want to get disturbed, you could have told me so _on the phone_ after I've called you a gazillion times. You haven't answered any of my calls. And now I'm here. It's that simple." Steve explains as if he's talking to a dumbass, describing how to slip into a pair of jeans.

Danny explodes. "Oh yeah? That simple, huh? You highjacked me to be on your team, and now you think I'm okay with you dropping by at any given moment that suits you. Who the fuck died and made you God? Damnit, Steve. I have asked neither for your attention nor for your care. I haven't asked for anything!"  
Danny feels strange. Everything seems unreal as if it happens to someone else. His words are loud and angry, but his voice is off and a panic surges through his stomach. He almost collapses face first onto the mattress.

Danny pants harshly much like a chain smoker with emphysema. "I didn’t ask to be your _ohana_. Don't just adopt me like a freaking stray dog without asking me." Danny yanks the sheet off to free his trapped legs and curses loud and filthy.

"You've been drinking," Steve says carefully his words laced with concern. Danny can't stand any of this. "And I'm not adopting you, Danny. We're a team and we're friends. This means something to me." Steve insists. "And as far as I know, you're way more useful as a detective of the Five-0 taskforce. You've wasted your talent at HPD. We both know that. Don't play this card. It won't work. The salary is even better, and you like it. I guess there's nothing to complain about." Steve stands immovable beside his bed, eyes fixed on his face. Danny freezes like a lizard in a fridge. Words are strange signs with no meaning. He stays silent.

"Why have you been drinking?" Steve demands to know. "What if we got a new case overnight? Jesus Christ, Danny. You're still drunk. What's the matter with you?" Steve's condemning tone causes shame to rise in Danny's chest, hot and ugly, crawling over his face, filling his head. It's difficult to breathe with a constricted throat.

Danny wants to kick back, even though he knows he's the loser in this fight. This clarity shines like a mean, glittering torch right into his tired, sore eyes. Everything hurts, and his heart his chafed, and there is no mercy to stop the pain that scratches like sandpaper over his raw flesh. He must urgently get some distance. He knows he's wrong, but he can't think reasonably.

Danny manages to sit up in his bed. At least he gains some ground, feeling a tad less helpless. "You're so full of yourself, Steve," he forces out, his voice like gravel. Danny ducks his head. "We're not in any fucked-up military squad and I'm no member of your glorious, unbeatable SEAL team. Don't give me your 'we're not leaving anyone behind' crappy speech. I'm not buying it." Danny huffs and he coughs for a moment, angrily throwing his hands in the air, trying to find an exit for the coiled anger that cut through his gut.

Venting doesn't help shit, _but God_ , it feels good to shout at someone. "Don't you ever dare to tell me what I can do and what I can't do. It was Friday night, I had a drink. Leave me the fuck alone. Don't treat me like a child." He shouts. Danny fumes, and for a short moment, his brain is filled with white noise and a sharp pain shoots through his neck. He's tense, ready to snap, ready to punch the wall or Steve's jaw for a second time. Danny wouldn't mind getting into a nasty fistfight to finally feel another pain than this maddening ache that splits his chest in half. 

He doesn't answer Steve's question about why he's been drinking. Danny struggles with an unfamiliar twinge in his chest, and he can't control this anger that rises like a tide low from the pit of his stomach. Danny turns his back to Steve as he scrambles out of bed. He needs to get away from him, away from this stunning guy who stands in his damn room. A man of real flesh and blood, messing with every inch of his self-control. Steve is the one who rides through his dreams, owning them, punching holes into his heart, stealing air from his lungs and the ability to think straight.

In his haste to get out of bed and away from Steve's glares, Danny falls off the edge of the bed. He hits the floor with his shoulder and curses a blue streak. His head pounds in the rhythm of his heart. He's as pathetic as every drunkard, clearly uncoordinated in his moves, nowhere close to having his body under control. He wishes desperately that he would be so far gone that he wouldn't feel this shame which eats at his bones and makes him cringe.

Danny grasps on to this coiled up rage, sinking his teeth into this feeling, holding on to it. It's his lifeline to his sanity. This is his fucking _home_ , no matter how shabby it looks or how much it breathes of despair and abandonment – _no one_ , not even Steve and this _ohana_ spirit gives him the right to just burst through his door to drag him out of bed.

Steve watches him, still standing next to his bed, arms folded over his impressive broad chest, stance wide. And Danny just loses it.

"It's none of your damn business why I've been drinking. I hate you. I hate this place. I hate Hawaii, and the weekends are mine, _just mine_. Don't you try to shrink me. My body hasn't gotten rid of all the booze. Just shut up and back off, Steve. I mean – " Danny rants while he scrambles to his feet.

Of course, the mood-swings hit him like a brick wall and suddenly he feels pathetic, so depressed and alone. He's not worth a second thought, and Steve is wasting his time. He's lost beyond saving. Danny stands with his jaw set and his lips thinned into a hard line. His eyes are sore and dry, they itch. His skin feels stretched hard over his bones, but he doesn't back down. Danny never backs away from a fight, even if it means he must fight his own demons.

Steve's eyes are watching him, his face shows irritation. His chin is lifted, and his arms are firmly crossed over his chest. This is a typical Steve-posture, demonstrating leader strength. Danny knows he tries to convince him. Steve wants to show that he's the one in control of this situation, but Danny just _feels_ how Steve's stumbles, on the verge to break. And he has no idea why.

They're dueling with glares, and neither of them is ready to cast his gaze. Danny knows his behavior is unacceptable. And he knows he looks like shit, too. The dark shadow from his scruff sticks to his face, his eyes must be puffy and red-rimmed, and his hair is a bird's nest like every morning. But Danny's mind drives on autopilot. It is too late for everything. His instincts have taken over, and Danny knows when this showdown is over, he will either have to quit his job or he will have lost a good friend forever. Because Steve is a good friend, and Danny treats him like shit. And everything goes down the drain once more.

Steve's dressed in sports clothes. He looks perfect. The air smells like freshly baked bread. Danny knows his cupboards are empty and he hasn't bought any fresh food in days. He tries to hate Steve for his caring, for his kindness, for just standing awkwardly next to his bed like it's the most normal thing to do on a Saturday morning, eyeing his half-naked partner, who is still a bit drunk. Danny leaps forward using words as his only defense.

"What's with the face, huh? Yeah, I look like cow shit. I'm tired, I'm about to puke because I'm still fucking drunk, and I live in a dump that's called an apartment and costs a fortune. But it's my home now. Aloha Hawaii. I don't need your judgment, Steven." Danny growls with a sharpness that scares even him a little. He needs to rein in his rage. Nothing about the circumstances of his life is Steve's responsibility and it's for damn sure not his fault. Steve has been nothing but supportive from the start, and Danny cringes.

Danny wears nothing but boxer shorts, riding low on his hips. He needs to piss. His bladder is overly full. "That's the second time you burst into my apartment, demanding my attention. I don't want it. What's so hard to understand when I say that I want to be left alone? Please, don't overuse your position as my boss, Steve." Danny tries to talk with a tempered voice. "And I checked my phone. No case, just you checking up on me. So, don't give me that speech about a case and all that."

"Are you done?" Steve looks stoic and unimpressed at him.

How can he do that? Danny guesses Steve has had his fair share of disobedient soldiers… Army guys… fighters… _fuck_ just stupid guys doing stupid shit in camouflage. Danny knows he's just another person Steve feels responsible for and he shows up here with this loving, adorable way with which he does everything for his _ohana_.

Danny's chest pain grows at that thought. He feels the doubts creeping in, the shift in his muscle tension. Danny senses how his body is starting to betray him, folding in on him. Steve looks strong, invincible, handsome, like just too much on all levels. Danny's mind can't cope with what he sees and what Steve's person does to him. His self-preservation kicks in.

"You have to leave, now – please," Danny demands, voice weak, bereft of the previous fervor. "This is my privacy, and you have no right to be here, no right to demand entrance because you think you need to check up on me. I don't owe you an explanation. And I'm okay. That has to do it. Everyone has demons. I don't think I have to tell you that." He hushes, pressing each word through his tight lips. His hands shake. "Just go, Steve." Danny’s faint words don't even make it across the bed. He's so damn tired. 

Danny's head hurts. Behind his eyes, there are flashes of sharp images piercing through his skull. Images that have been so vivid during the night. And it's always followed by Danny's inner squirming because no matter how hard he tries, this male body morphs at one point always into Steve. Danny's yearning is so clearly visible in his fantasy but it's also so unreachable like a far-away star in the night sky. "Go, Steve." Danny doesn't trust himself around this man. The pull towards him and his strong arms, his broad chest and the safety that Steve emanates is a constant ache of longing and a dangerous whisper in Danny's ears. 

Danny's forces himself to stare back, to read Steve's unreadable face. He can't handle Steve's sleek way to deal with every-fucking-thing. He has no idea about the way Danny fucks everything up in his life and about how he can't cope with getting tossed around like a wet washcloth by the situation he can't control. Danny can't stand it much longer.

"Leave, Steve, now." Danny insists, voice still rough from too little sleep and from weeks of feeling off, not fitting in, not finding his footing. "I mean it." He tries to be reasonable and steadfast.

"You look like shit." Steve offers softly, voice like a gentle stroke.

Danny closes his eyes. He can't handle this softness and all this caring. Steve brings freshly baked bread rolls or some other healthy shit to make him feel good. He can't handle these gently whispered words. Danny chokes on air, swallows hard. It hurts like a motherfucker, standing there, watching Steve and seeing the sorrows, this compassion in his eyes. This hint of a flinch, the twitch in his chin and how he clenches his teeth – _it's unbearable_. 

Danny might pass out if he has to hold himself upright for another five minutes.

Steve's face melts for a split second into something else. His eyes drop to Danny's bare chest, and the next second, Steve's gaze hits his crotch. Danny's cock jerks. His loose boxers don't hide much of his package. Steve raises his look again. Danny's stomach lurches when he recognizes something different in Steve's face. Steve's shoulders sag a split second and his stance started to crash, ending in shuffling on his feet. Steve turns his head away from Danny.

Danny's panic jumps back to full alert. He doesn't know how to catalog the quick flicker of Steve's eyes. What the fuck was _that_?

Steve turns his head back to watch him warily, tensed, with a strange facial expression. "You're still drunk, Danny. Let's – let me get you coffee or something." Steve's reserved, cautious tone is the proverbial straw and Danny snaps.

"I'm drunk, but I'll get better. What are you still doing here? I needed a well-deserved break from pondering over my fucked-up life." Danny tries not to shout and feels terribly sorry as soon the echo of his voice hangs in the stale air. He scrubs with shaking hands over his tired face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He mumbles through his fingers. "I'm sorry, Steve. I don't want to be mean to you. But It's a bad time, and I can't deal with you right now. Please, just give me this weekend, and I'll be as good as new on Monday."

Steve's face looks pained, and his jaw muscles pop nervously. "Take a shower, Danny. Stop drinking, seriously, you're a cop. You're Five-0, don't do this to yourself. Go to sleep, and if you want, I'll come by later. Just – don't drink anymore and try to sleep it off." Steve's voice is so different, chopped and painfully loaded with an unfamiliar wavering.

Steve cocks his head and Danny's insides turn upside down with the way Steve's gaze tears a burn mark over his bare chest. Danny's dick hardens, and he goes red in the face with shame.

Danny is just one step away from falling headlong into nothingness. "I'm in the middle of this darkness, Steve. I wanna forget, and the only thing that helps me is booze. It eases the sharp edges for a moment. I don't need to explain this to you. You know how alcohol works, and don't lecture me about being a cop. _I know this shit_. I know it's _wrong_ … just sometimes – sometimes everything is too much." Danny's words are faint, his voice raspy from the gut-wrenching sadness he didn't know how to control anymore.

"Stop it right there, Danny. You can't – fuck, Danny. Stop that. Please, pull yourself together. You have Grace – " Steve steps forward his hands outstretched to underline the importance of his words. Danny doesn't need a reminder of being reckless. He's only human.

"Don't you dare give me the image of an irresponsible father. You have no right to do that." Danny's voice tipped over and he steps backward, his hands clenched to fists.

Steve stumbles. His face slips, and for a second, Danny catches a glimpse of utter emptiness and loneliness. Danny gets nervous because nothing makes sense and Steve's still standing next to his bed and he – he's about to break down.

"Please, Steve, just leave me alone. I can't – I don't know how to talk. I'm not able to think straight. I need –" Danny gulps some much-needed air, "I need a few hours for myself. Why can't you respect that? I haven't asked you to take care of me. I don't need this. I'm okay on my own." Danny needs to get it out, needs to make Steve understand. "The only thing that's keeping me alive and sane is Grace. And she will never know how her Dad fights to keep standing on his feet. I want her life to be full of sunshine and happy feelings. I want to make her smile," he states, suddenly bone-tired. "I'll survive." 

"Sorry, Danny. I apologize. I didn't want to be rude." Steve comes even closer. "Why do you want me to leave? I would – we could, I don't know?" He inhales sharply and turns his palms upright to signal peace as if asking for permission for something. "Maybe you'd like to talk? Why not? We, uhm, we don't need to talk, we can just sit – if you… you know?" Steve shuffles closer and Danny gets agitated, but he listens because Steve's that persistent. Deep inside his little, hungry heart, Danny doesn't want Steve to leave like _ever_. "Maybe pancakes and coffee in the nearby coffeehouse would be a great idea? Yeah? It's on me." Steve throws his thumb over his shoulder and points at the paper bag on Danny's nightstand. "You can eat the malasadas later. We, uhm, we can only drink coffee. We even can bring the coffee here, if you – you know…" Steve stops and seems unsure how to proceed.

Danny sees how the tension in Steve's shoulders hardens. His biceps bulge when he scratches one of his pecs absentmindedly. Danny has to avert his eyes, and he knows there's only one possibility for him.

"Don't, Steve. I told you to leave. Don't pressure me. I'm in no condition to deal with humans today. Especially not with you." Danny scoffs and shakes his head. It hurts, it hurts so terribly to see Steve's face harden, getting stoic again. Danny's chest is so tight.

"I'll leave if you really want me gone. I brought you some malasadas… I guess I just said that, ah, yeah. You like them. I – why haven't you answered my calls?" Steve is rooted to the spot and watches Danny with an observant look.

Danny sighs and runs his fingers through his hair to gain time. "I wasn't in the mood to talk to you or to anybody. Why is this so difficult to accept?" Danny sways on the spot.

Steve's eyes have a life of their own. As if gravity has taken a hold on them, they always drop a notch deeper. Steve's cheeks are flushed. His eyes snap away the moment Danny catches him staring. The room is too hot. Danny is too hot, and Steve is beyond hot. He doesn't know how they end up frozen to the spot in his shabby apartment on a normal Saturday morning. Exactly situations like these are a reason Danny doesn't want to hang out with Steve.

Steve seems to enter a new realm of uncomfortable, but he doesn't leave as if he waits for more of Danny's instructions. 

"Why are you still standing there?" Danny exhausted voice seems to rile Steve up. 

"I want to make sure you're alright, Danny. Is this so hard to grasp?" He snorts and waves his hands in the air, doing a funny move, uncoordinated. "You have been drinking. You're not okay. We're here for you. Me and the team." He grumbles. The words are a desperate jumbled sound deep in his throat. "What changed, Danny? I thought you liked to hang out with me. At least at the beginning, you were okay with our getting together watching games and stuff." 

Danny fears he has to explain to this oblivious, wonderful man what's going on. His abdomen cramps. "I need to piss." He pivots on his feet and crosses the short distance to his ridiculously small bathroom. There's no door and a dangerous energy surges through his veins. It's the alcohol, it's the fucking alcohol letting him do dirty, hot, forbidden things. Danny stands there, takes his dick out and lets go. His steady stream of yellow piss splashes into the toilet.

"Have the freaking decency to close your damn door!" Steve shouts with aggravation.

"No door here. I have just one, and you kicked that down. You'll be paying for the repair, by the way. I don't have money for shit like that." Danny grabs the edge of his sink. He still feels so lightheaded, so reckless, knowing he is damaging his reputation, the trust Steve has in him. His behavior is pathetic and rude. A sadness clouds his senses and he closes his eyes. Everything is off. He feels stretched thin in every part of his life. And Danny knows that he has a sick mind, because his cock grows hard while pissing, and isn't this the most pathetic thing ever?

He flushes the toilet and shakes his dick before he slips his junk back into his boxers, not caring if drops of piss stain the fabric. He washes his hands and decides to just pour his heart out while he watches the water rushing down the small opening in the sink. Danny needs to find the courage and stalls for time. He tries hard to ignore Steve, who for sure is watching him with hawk-eyes. He rinses his mouth twice and splashes warm water over his tired face. Danny even runs his wet hands through his disheveled hair to flatten it at least a bit. He feels much better, almost presentable and decent. He knows Steve's watching him the whole time. Desire creeps in waves beneath Danny's skin.

Steve's face is covered in a deep shade of red, but he doesn't cast his eyes. He looks Danny square in the eye.

"You're ashamed of me, aren't you?" Danny drags his feet around the bed, never leaving Steve's eyes. He swallows, and his cock is getting harder the closer he gets to Steve. He doesn't care anymore. He's not waiting for a reply. Steve holds his ground with a touch of fear shattering some of his self-confidence. Danny's briefs can't hide his hard-on anymore. "I asked you a question there, big guy." The words are gentle, and his feelings are betraying him, sneaking up on him without having the chance to lock them up inside his shredded heart again.

Danny stops, hovering outside of Steve's personal space. Steve's nervous, and somehow this knowledge makes Danny cave. He isn't worthy of a friend like Steve. He isn't. "I'm not ashamed of you, Danny." Steve manages to add in a voice so off that it makes Danny's heart skip a beat.

"What's up, Steve? Is it dawning on you what a neurotic, inconvenient, rough Jersey cop I am? You had no idea what you brought home when made me join your team." Danny has to withhold the urge to burst into tears. He's so done. He's destroying his future but hiding his feelings had become a task that has started to eat him from the inside out. He's not strong enough to stem against this emotional storm raising havoc in his soul.

Steve's throat bobs and he licks his lips nervously. "I'll answer your questions when you answer mine. Why haven't you answered my calls? Why don't you want to spend time with me anymore?" Steve sounds like a hurt little boy, not understanding why no one wants to play with him anymore. "And why did you drink?"

Danny's heart bleeds, but he huffs in annoyance. He lets his head drop and fans with all his fingers through the mess in his hairdo before he lifts his gaze again. He gives in. "I'm homesick, Steve. I miss everything. I miss Sal's steakhouse, Manny's, my friends, my family, my daily routine. I miss NPD, my colleagues. I miss the special scent in the air of my hometown. I miss being with a bunch of guys who understand my jokes. I miss my whole goddamn old life I've left back in New Jersey. _Every-fucking-thing_. It drives me crazy." Danny stops, gaining control over his wrecked voice. He can do it. Steve watches him with this tender look in his eyes that makes everything worse. "But my daughter lives here now, and I didn't have to think twice about whether I'd follow her or not. I don't care about any of that as long as I can see Grace grow up and as long as I can be a part of her life. But – but I didn't expect to be so off balance. It's too much, Steve. I don't know how to deal with it." He explains calmly.

Maybe it's a good thing to talk after all. "I never thought that it would be this hard. I feel lost, Steve. I feel detached from the outer world, and I guess I suffer from mood swings and depression. And drinking helps me not go nuts. I'm not an alcoholic, but weekends without Grace are a torture. I hate my life." Danny bites the words out, dragging air through his nose.

Steve looks deeply sad. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Danny stops him with a flick of his hand. "Don't, no, I mean I appreciate your concern, but you don't have to save me. You don't have to feel sorry for me. I'm beyond saving. I have my demons and you have yours. You're not talking about your ghosts either, Steve, and I know there are tons of ghosts keeping you awake at night. I try to fit in the best I can. Don't ask too much of me, Steve. And don't try to fix my homesickness. It sticks to me like a mole on my skin. Time will heal the wounds." Danny's hand falls back at his side.

"And what's wrong with spending time with me, Danny?" Steve folds into himself right before his eyes. "I thought we got along great."

"Jesus, Steve. What's with you and this question?" Danny's words burst out from him. "We get along great, during work. Yes! I agree! We're an awesome team and we always have each other's back. What more do you want from me? I can't give you what you want, Steve. I can't be your friend. I don't want to spend all my free time with you." Danny almost shouts, taking two steps back. "Please, just accept that!" 

Steve gets furious and startles Danny with his outburst. "You don't answer my question! Why the hell not? I still don't get it!" All the shouting, damn it. Danny's head is about to explode. "What's all this shit about not wanting to be with me? What's wrong with me? Huh? Can you answer at least this question?" Steve's words bounce off the walls like gunshots. "Because I would like to be your friend!" He yells. Steve honest to God yells and Danny's limit reaches the mark where backpaddling is not an option anymore.

"How much of a damn blockhead are you, Steve? Have you lost all your ability to read people when it comes down to me? _That's fucking not enough for me_! It's not enough, do you hear me? I want more! It shows obviously in my fucking underwear!" It feels good to scream. Danny's frustration has accumulated, and everything shoots in a high arc out of him, riding his words with a furious energy. 

Steve's strangled sound shreds Danny's heart to pieces. "I'm not good enough as a friend?" He hitches his shoulders up, trying to keep a straight face. Danny is about to tear his hair out, and he fears that DADT is inked so deeply in Steve's brain that such a possibility isn't even in a close range of thoughts. He's just admitted to sporting wood in his briefs, but Steve's ignores that fact.

What –?

And maybe Danny wishes to see something that isn't there, but he sees an expression of hope flicker over Steve's face. Steve rubs his hand over his chin, scratches his jaw, staring into space. "What you do mean when you say you want more?” Steve's voice has changed. It's frail and hoarse.

Danny throws his hands in the air. He's about to cry. He turns and walks away. He gets himself ready to talk straight, to tell everything. He inhales several times before he turns back to Steve. He can't stand the pain in Steve's face, raw, churning. Steve looks so wounded. "Do you want the truth?" Danny offers with a gesture of grandeur and a scarred heart. There's nothing more to lose. His eyes dart to where Steve is rooted to the spot on his cheap floor.

"Yes, the truth, Danny." Steve hangs his head and Danny doesn't see the soldier, _the Navy SEAL_ , for God’s sake. He knows what Steve's achieved, damn it – what Danny sees is a hurt soul, a broken man who was trained to have an unbending will and a stamina to endure pain, thirst, and excruciating situations a normal person couldn't survive. Steve combines strength and pride in his personality which has led him to where he is now, but behind this armor, there's a desperate, lonely person, maybe as lost and broken in life as Danny feels.

Danny sighs and tilts his head back. Against his will, his back muscles tense up, causing a comeback of an even bigger headache. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He shoots a last glance back at Steve who still stands motionless on the spot, showing a well-controlled expression.

Steve wears his stealth-face, not giving away the tiniest emotion. It's a mask, and Danny fears and hates this mask because he has no chance to read Steve. He has slipped into fight-mode and he was unreachable for Danny. Steve hides behind his SEAL, wearing it like a second skin. Steve is expecting a slap in the face, a stab to his heart. He stands there as if Danny's ready to disembowel him and Steve lets it happen. And Danny crumbles at all this self-sacrifice. Steve has earned the truth.

"I'm in over my head, Steve." Danny stutters, closes his eyes and forces himself to just go on. "To spend the day, all day, by your side is almost unbearable because I'm so in love with you." He pauses again, fights back the big lump in his throat. "Besides Gracie, there hasn't been another person who made me want to go on – until I met you." Danny exhales softly, staring at the floor. "You changed everything by shooting my defenses to hell with one single look. I get out of bed because I know I'll see you. I get through the weeks without my Grace because you're there. Whenever I turn around, you're in arms reach." Danny's voice breaks and he clears his throat. Steve is as quiet as a mouse. "You and your stupid good looks, Steve, your incredible eyes and those ridiculously long lashes… they take my breath away. I want to wrap you up in my arms. I want to be there for you at night, because I know you have bad dreams and bad days, too. You can't be a freaking SEAL without a shredded mind and a horrified psyche of what you have experienced."

Danny has jumped off the edge, free-falling, and he doesn't care if his soul, his heart, his freaking everything burst into flames, hitting the ground and smashing into a thousand pieces beyond repair.

It's the worst because Steve looks shocked. Danny hadn't expected anything else but exactly this expression. "Danny – " Steve croaks.

"No, shut up. I don't want to hear anything from you. No explanation, fucking nothing. You wanted the truth. That's it! Now listen!" Danny slowly walks towards Steve. Steve can't look at him and Danny's stomach sinks like a stone.

"I know it's a stupid thing, me being in love with you because of... look at you! How could this be a mutual thing, huh? You're like an Avenger with superpowers. You're a SEAL, and DADT is inked under your skin and imprinted in your soul. _I get it_. Even though I joke about this all the time, I know damn well what it took you to get there. I know what you are capable of, Steve. Who am I to ask permission to be a part of your life? You're in so many ways out of my league I can't even begin to list them all. I mean, look at me. I'm short with rough edges. I'm a damn fine detective with a shitty personal life and no chance to make anything work beside my job. That's all I have to offer: a caring heart and honest, deep love." Danny swallows hard and wipes at the corner of his eyes. "Nobody wants that anymore."

Steve's tries to imitate a piece of furniture, standing there motionless, listening, and Danny fights this huge pull that drags him towards Steve.

"I'm pathetic with no success in relationships." Danny breaks under the sudden weight of what he has done. "That's it. That's why I can't be your friend, and I don't want you to be mine. It's torture to be with you in a platonic way because if you haven't got it until now, Steve, then let me be straight with you." Danny is frightened about his own action and what would be the possible outcome, but he can't stop now either. He needs a moment, and Steve doesn't interrupt him.

The small smile Danny tries to force onto his lips goes wobbly and drops away, just like his faith does. Danny looks over where Steve still acts like being a piece of his apartment. "I also want to fuck you, Steve. I want to fuck you so bad, you have no idea." Danny shifts on his feet. He can hardly focus he feels so dizzy. "It's a constant pain to be with you. It kills me to be with you when I'm not allowed to touch you and to call you mine." Danny's voice drops away.

That's all, that's it. All strength leaves his body and he folds in half, his heart an aching lump in his chest. Steve looks like he's going to bolt out the door any minute. Danny has just sealed his fate. He knows his time with Five-0 is over. What boss would want to work with him after his confession? Jesus, he's so screwed and he can't imagine going back to work with HPD, but he'll do what's necessary to earn money and to stay close to Grace. Grace is the only person that counts in Danny life. She's is the only reason why he wants to try to get it right – just for her.

Danny's glance is shy, and it shoots briefly over to Steve. Danny is too ashamed to meet his eyes. Steve hasn't said a damn word and why should he? Danny has just stomped his future into the ground. His depressed mind is scratched empty. Danny doesn't know how Steve wants to proceed from here job-wise.

He scuffs his feet over to the bed, closer to Steve. His room is just too fucking small to keep out of Steve's way. He needs to shut everything out. He clambers back onto the bed with jerky and uncontrolled moves before he slumps face first onto the mattress, his head buried in his lumpy pillow.

Steve still hasn't moved.

And Danny can't just take any more. He needs to sleep. He wants to forget before he has to face his new shitty situation. His headache is dull and there are cobwebs hanging before his eyes. His breathing is raspy in his own ears. Danny's on the verge of tears and _that_ he wouldn't allow happening in front of Steve. 

Danny clears his throat and waits two seconds before he trusts his voice. "You know where the door is, Steve. If I may make a request, please don't strip me of my badge and my gun at the HQ. I don't want Chin and Kono to see me lose my honor. I'll hand you my weapon and my badge this afternoon. I'll drop by your house if that's okay with you. I hope… I hope you let me do this my way." Danny closes his eyes. He doesn't want to see the world and he would break in half if he had to look at Steve right now. 

"Danny – " Why is Steve's voice so broken? He speaks his name forced, his voice is dark.

"Please leave, Steve." Danny's soft plea is shaky, and he clenches his teeth, eyes already welling up.

Steve's footsteps are loud in the spooky quietness of the room. He listens to the soft noise of Steve’s shoes when they push off the sandy floor. Danny hears the creak of the broken hinges. His blood rushes in his ears and his headache explodes behind his eyes. The door opens and closes with a final note to it. 

His heart beats with the constant _dadam-dadam-dadam_ and it makes it almost impossible to filter any other sound. He should be able to hear Steve walking away. There should be the opening of a car door and the hard slam when it closes shut. Danny's sniffles into his pillow. He missed it. Steve has disappeared as stealthily as the freaking SEAL that he is, not even leaving audible footsteps behind. He has left Danny without a word.

Danny breaks. He feels how a heavy cry inflates in his chest. He doesn't do anything to stop it. He chokes on air when the sobs burst out of him. His mouth is open, his face distorted into a mask of pain. The crying fit leaves Danny's torso in a rigid cramp while he presses dry, painful sobs into his pillow. He can't stand his own sounds, but he can't stop this flood either. He wails when his throat gives in to his voice and his grief finds a channel to spill. He curls up in a hard ball of arms and legs. He protects his head with both arms as if he has to give his body shelter from a hailstorm lying on an open field. Danny cries, and his tears feel like oil on an inner fire that destroys something precious inside his soul.

Danny's heart almost stops and the sound of shuffling feet back to his bed almost freeze his blood to ice. He holds his breath while he breaks out in a sweat. He doesn't move a finger, he just listens. 

"Danny, please – stop it." Steve's voice is hoarse and trembling. His footsteps come closer again and Danny hears the rustling of clothes that get pulled over hair, the dragging of fabric against skin, shoes that drop on the floor with a soft thud. And he hears Steve's harsh breathing.

What? – 

Danny is shocked, and he still only lies there on the bed, a hard ball of curled up limbs. And then the mattress dips. Danny's head is still buried between his arms. His skin is sticky from sweat. He hiccups a few times when his torso jerks with unshed tears that he tries desperately to keep jammed down his throat.

"Danno, please stop crying." Steve murmurs so close, his voice like a foggy cloud, faint and yet begging.

Danny's body thrusts out so suddenly he makes the bed shake. His muscles going rigid with fear and hope and a terrible embarrassment he can't hide. His cheeks are blotchy and tear-stained. He whips his head around so fast his spine pops. Danny stares at Steve and he rebounds the same second, gasping as if he had run against a wall by the sight of Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, shy and insecure and – naked.

Danny can't speak. All the air whooshes out in shock and his soft, agonizing whimper hangs in the air like a shriek. "Steve?" Danny croaks and a single tear runs down his cheek and drops onto his chest. It feels cold. "Steve… Steve, why are you – Steve?" Danny's voice is rough and filled with incredulity. His pulse races through his body, creating an unfamiliar tickling sensation in his throat.

Danny whines because Steve's vulnerability hurts the innermost respect he holds for this proud, brave man. And Danny knows exactly what Steve's showing him – trust, deep and gut-wrenching, overarching and profound trust. Danny turns to the side and crawls over to where Steve's slender, lithe SEAL body slouches on his bed in his tiny apartment. Steve's fingers are curled around his knees and Danny sees the white dots where the pressure of Steve's grip cut off the blood flow under his skin. He's tensed as a coiled-up iron feather. A faint tremor makes his hands tremble and his jaw muscles twitch repeatedly.

Steve's strong and beautiful body is hunched forward. His shoulders are pulled downwards. He hangs his head with his eyes staring at the floor. His silky, sun-kissed skin is flawless and stretches over taut muscles and he waits, and Danny's world spins out of control.

"Please, Steve, you can't sit there, not like that. Steve – babe," Danny begs and careful as if he had to deal with a feral animal that is crazed with panic, he slowly reaches out and hesitantly wraps his fingers around Steve's shoulder. He half expects Steve to jump to his feet and snap out of his haze, totally spooked about the situation, but instead, he keeps sitting at the side of Danny's bed, surrendering.

Danny's heart leaps up in his throat and he ends up breathing through his mouth. His eyes drop to Steve's crotch. His flaccid dick rests in a nest of dark, curled pubic hair between his thighs, and Danny's grip tightens around Steve's shoulder. He listens to Steve's breath that comes in huffs, sounding stressed, and his eyes are closed with his eyelids fluttering as if he's in pain. Small drops of sweat glisten on the soft swell of Steve's upper lip.

Danny's senses jerk to life with a jolt, and on his knees, he slowly scoots closer until he's skin to skin with Steve. It's just a small patch of tanned, soft skin he touches with one bended knee. A spot not bigger than Danny's palm at the side of Steve's hip, oddly comforting. The warmth of Steve's skin sneaks into his body, grounding him, gifting him with courage. "Babe, say something." Danny rasps haltingly, "Why are you sitting naked on my bed? What's going on? Please, talk to me." Danny only dares to use a low, gentle voice while the fingertips of his other hand flitter nervously over Steve's strong back, unsure how to go on. Seeing Steve like this is excruciating.

This situation is nothing Danny could have ever imagined to such an extent he wants to pinch his arm to check if he's dreaming. Steve sends him a message that's not difficult to translate, but Danny will bend over backward to try to understand what Steve wants to tell him. Most of all he wants to catch Steve in his falling because that's at least one thing Danny gets from this surreal moment. Steve has just jumped off his inner cliff and he's free-falling in the same way as Danny has been some moments ago, showing this bottomless trust in him. 

Danny shakes when the meaning swarms his mind. Steve trusts him that much and he knows Danny won't let him down, ever. They will make it out alive. The sudden clearness creates something big in Danny's chest, pressing down on his heart.

Danny waits, kneeling close by Steve, feeling the steady pounding of his partner's heartbeat under his fingertips. Steve's throat contracts. He swallows, he holds his breath and works his jaw as if he has to retch up words. When he finally parts his lips, Danny clamps down on Steve's shoulder with a violently beating heart because whatever Steve has to say it will seal Danny's fate. His body goes numb and he waits with the seconds ticking by.

Words don't come easy for Steve and the strain shows in his voice. It's raspy, barely controlled, sounding so wrecked. "Don't send me away, Danny. Please, don't… don't send me away." He doesn't move, not even a twitch, just words hanging in the air between them with a meaning so profound, it's a punch to Danny's gut.

Danny can feel the agony hiding behind this simple sentence. Steve's fingers grip tighter around his knees, leaving his fingernails bloodless. Danny realizes how Steve breathes in a sort of a pattern, slow, deliberate, well-measured intakes of air only to breathe out between relaxed lips as if he had to fight a panic attack.

Danny has been always good at talking and he hastily assembles his mind, trying to squeeze out a constant flow of words and not caring if they make sense. Danny can't stand to witness how Steve's falls apart right in front of him about a sentence he's just said out of his own pain. He starts to ramble, hoping this lifeline reaches Steve to pull him back from the inner darkness that has thrown him off and into a wave of anxiety.

"No, I won't. Stay, Steve. I'm sorry. No, I'm not sending you away. I take it back. Everything about you leaving, I take back, okay? Stay, stay because I want you to. I, uhm, I just said that. I'm sorry, Steve, I thought it would be easier for you to leave. But no, don't leave. Stay, babe. With me." Danny bubbles and trips over his own words because he's in such a rush to assure Steve that of course, _Jesus Christ_ , he nothing but wants Steve with him, here right where they are sitting. "I wanted you gone because I… I was ashamed, you know, being drunk and looking pathetic. And yes, about all the rest, the one-sided feelings you know, being in love with you – I'm pathetic and I'm sorry and please – " Danny's fingers end up drawing small, soothing circles between Steve's shoulder blades. He adds no pressure, just featherlight touches to give Steve a focus. "I want you to stay, Steve. I've wanted you to stay from day one. I'm not – I'm… stay, Steve. It's okay. We'll figure it out together, but please stay." Danny exhales shivery with his one hand still clenched to Steve's shoulder.

Danny almost misses the tiny, affirmative nod Steve gives him. "And you can't leave Five-0, Danny." Steve's nostrils flare and his jaw muscles pop. "You can't leave the task force and you can't – " Steve scrunches his eyes shut, thinning his lips with his chest heaving. It takes him a moment, waiting and licking his lips before he speaks again. " – and you can't leave… me." Steve ducks his head hiding his face as much as he can. Steve's skin is flushed and a small drop of sweat runs down his temple.

It's – Danny draws a blank. He's processing Steve's words, and like an echo, they continue their journey into Danny's body and the reaction is like the slowest slow motion ever. Danny has trouble processing what Steve admitted. He's not sure if he understands the meaning correctly. Steve could have meant various other things and not what Danny was hoping for. 

"I won't leave you, Steve." His whispers, his voice thick with feelings. "I'm right here, okay? Right here, babe, and I won't go anywhere." 

"Okay." Steve's posture doesn't relax, and Danny's bad knee is killing him.

"Lay down with me. Come on, Steve." He covers Steve's biceps with his hand and tugs gently, coaxing Steve into following him. Danny still can't wrap his mind around the hard fact that Steve has stripped all his clothes after he has closed the broken door to sit _naked_ next to Danny while waiting it out, waiting for fate to give him a full body tackle. It's mind-boggling how unforeseeable each situation turns when Steve's involved. Danny is beyond freaking out. He's astounded to be suddenly so calm, being sure of what to do.

Time has lost its meaning. It's all about Steve and him now, and this precious moment. Nothing else counts but the fragile declaration of love Danny has received from Steve.

Danny repeats always the same sweet words, not getting tired of waiting until Steve unfurls his overstrained muscles from his frozen posture to follow him. He staggers onto the bed and scoots on all four to where Danny is leading him. He still doesn't meet Danny's eyes.

"How could you ever think I would want to take your badge and your gun?" Steve's words show how hurt he his.

Danny watches him moving closer. Steve's utterly, breathtakingly beautiful in his nakedness. But Danny only sees Steve's face, and he needs to hold it between his hands. He's aware of his turned-on state. He can't control his body when Steve closes in on him with this perfect, muscled body, and with his dick hanging heavy between his legs but this isn't important right now. It creates an excited, far away buzz in his stomach, but he doesn't pay attention to his rising lust because Steve's still so tensed up. He's so on edge, having all his defenses up, although Danny has told him that he wants him here with him, that he wants him to stay. Steve doesn't believe him, and Danny is determined to change that.

Danny shuffles back into the middle of the bed carefully observing that Steve keeps up, following him. "I figured – I behaved mean and bad and I've admitted that I drink, and I thought after I said the words – " Danny's full concentration is on Steve's posture and he loses his trail of thoughts. "I wanted to give you a way out in case you think I can't handle the situation, or maybe I wanted to avoid unbridgeable differences in the close future. I didn't want to destroy the rest that's left of our friendship, and I figured you might feel uncomfortable around me after everything I said." Danny sighs. He hopes the words reach Steve's closed mind. He has never dealt with a SEAL in an emotional overstrained situation and it only spurs Danny on to try harder. 

Steve blushes bright red when Danny's hand runs gently up and down his arms, caressing the side of his neck. He hunkers down. He's still on all four, and Danny gets the impression that he's second-guessing their decision ending naked or in nothing else but boxers in the same bed. "It's okay Steve, come, come closer, babe. You're safe." And to prove his point Danny sheds his underwear in one quick move and let them fall onto the floor. Steve doesn't even flinch. He's moments away from sliding closer so that their bodies will touch. Danny's movements are measured, well thought, and _very_ slow. "It's okay, babe. Come here." Danny whispers.

Steve crumbles at Danny's side into a heap of legs and arms, ending in a fetal position. His knees bump into Danny's thigh and he folds his arms in a funny bundle of joints and pulls them close to his chest. He hides his face at the side of Danny's head, half buried in the pillow.

Danny doesn't stir to give Steve time. He wills his headache into the back of his head, dealing with a dull ache. His only purpose is to make Steve feel safe and that he knows he's loved. Steve's breath is loud and too fast. Danny is quiet and only turns his head a tad to the side so his ear shell tips against Steve's nose. They lie quietly for a few moments and shuffling a bit to get more comfortable. Nothing feels off.

Steve's dry, rough palm finds its way onto Danny's abs. His searching fingers graze carefully over Danny's skin until his hand rests on Danny's flat plane of his stomach, rising and falling with his slow breathing. Heat and arousal have slipped into the back of Danny's mind. Sex isn't on top of his list right now but feeling safe and drowning in the closeness of each other is much needed for both.

Everything is so intimate and new and strangely unfamiliar, but at the same time so natural. Danny strokes Steve's thigh with his hand. Steve has his knees pulled close to his chest, but Danny hooks his fingers around the soft curve of his tensed-up hamstrings and tugs gently, showing Steve what he wants him to do. Steve's lets out a shaky sigh and gives in. He scoots closer, hugging Danny around his waist and drags his leg over Danny's hips. Both tense their abs and holding their breath when Steve rubs over Danny's half-hard cock only to lie still in this overwhelming embrace with Steve snuggled up against Danny's body.

"You have to stop drinking, Danny." Steve's voice is surprisingly clear and strong. He moves his face even closer and Danny's skin prickles when soft lips kiss his shoulder. "Can you do that? No more getting drunk alone. Promise me that, Danny, please." Steve insists, and his fingers flex absentmindedly on the side of Danny's ribcage, grazing back and forth over the soft skin of his flank. 

"I promise, Steve. No more drinking alone." Danny confirms and covers Steve's forearm with his hand, fingers curling around his strong muscles. He slips closer into Steve's embrace.

"Steve?" Danny's fingers graze over soft skin and strong muscles.

"Hmm?" A soft murmur at the side of his face.

"Help me to understand – I can't process what just happened, not yet." Danny turns his head a bit more, hoping he can catch Steve's eyes.

"About what?" Steve's arm tightens around Danny's waist, pulling him carefully closer.

Danny sighs equally calm and agitated. "This? You holding me? Lying by my side naked, curled around me?" Danny plays with the hair on Steve’s arm. "What does this mean? I was prepared to die of a broken heart, trying to gather strength to move on… leaving you – Five-0…" Danny closes his eyes when Steve kisses his cheek with a tenderness so sweet it aches in his chest. "I let you in, I can't let you out again. I can't." Danny whispers. 

"Actions speak louder than words." Steve's lips are curled in a smile when he breathes another butterfly kiss against Danny's temple, nuzzling his nose into his hair. 

"I – I don't know what you mean by that. Can you elaborate?" Danny abs bunch a bit under the new growing tension.

"Hey, relax, Danny. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Steve glides onto Danny's body, covering him under a warm blanket of skin and masculinity with his arms braced around Danny's head. Steve's fingers play with his hair and his toes tickling the arc of Danny's feet. Steve's face is warm against his throat.

Danny moans, his eyelids flutter shut. He cants his hips into Steve's, needing to feel his wiry pubic hair rubbing over his crotch, and Steve's cock pressing down on his own hardening dick. He's missed this so much, to be anchored by a heavy male body, strong and warm, all taut and hard, rich cords of muscles. Wherever his hands move there is only hardness, strength, and the unmistakable scent of male and sex numbing his worried mind, letting arousal spread heavy and delicious into his body. Danny pants with his eyes still closed.

Steve's lips touch Danny's cheekbones, soft and dry, rubbing gently over every inch of Danny's face, his breath hot and vivid against Danny's skin. "Steve – " Danny tries again, hoarse and distracted.

"You were so angry and hurt and there was no chance that my words would reach you." Steve whispers between sweet pecks, kissing the tip of Danny's nose. "You wouldn't have believed me. I wanted to show you that I'm serious, that I need you just as much." 

Danny holds his breath when Steve lowers his face, slanting his head to kiss Danny's lips for the first time. It's an otherworldly experience, and Danny tenses up with a gasp, his abs hard and trembling. Steve groans gently and presses his plush lips closer to Danny's mouth, moving so slow with his hands buried in Danny's hair.

It is a soft kiss, careful and filled with a promise Danny could only answer with a whimper. He meets Steve's mouth, lifting his head, and leans into his warm lips. His fingers find Steve's neck, touching this intimate spot with a deep-felt awe. He's watched Steve's neckline, his sinewy muscles with so much yearning that he can't just wrap his fingers around that spot now that he's allowed to touch. Danny's eyes are hot because everything Steve does is sending shivers through his bones, reaching his heart that thumps nervously and excitedly in his chest.

Steve withdraws only so far that their lips are still touching. Steve's face is out of focus, but Danny can't stop staring. "I had to convince you that I'm in, that I want you too, so I stripped." Steve's expression changed suddenly and an anxious streak rushes over his face. "Don't ever scare me with the threat of leaving me, Danny." His breath blows against Danny's parted lips. "I can't lose you. I can't – I don't know how to go on without you, Danno."

Danny is buried under Steve's body, feeling safe and so loved, so fucking loved. "Rachel admitted by the end of our marriage that my love was smothering, pressing every inch of her freedom out of her." He swallows shortly, darts the tip of his tongue out, licking nervously and Steve waits, hovering with his lips right above his mouth.

Danny's eyes roll back in his head when the constant, steady moving of Steve's abs press into his own stomach. He's so hard and he feels Steve's strained cock pressing into his groin. It's a heady feeling to finally have this gorgeous, darling man in his arms. Danny can't really process any of those moments. It's so fantastic that he's still afraid to wake up and to realize everything has been just a big, wonderful dream. His voice trembles. "I don't know how to love otherwise – I… I don't know, Steve, what if – " 

"I'm not Rachel, Danny." Steve's jerky move is sudden. He pushes back, balancing his weight on his elbows at either side of Danny's head. "Danny, look at me. Hey –" Steve shifts and rolls his hips into Danny's strained dick, drawing a low groan out of his chest.

Danny blinks hesitantly until he stares directly into Steve's warm gaze. Steve's face is flushed and his eyes glow with an intensity that makes Danny shy away from the rawness he reads there. "All the women in my past always said that I was too much at the end – " Danny hurries to add. "That they couldn't stand me and my love..."

"I'm no woman, either." Steve interrupts him and boxes Danny's head between his arms, lifting his upper body, weighing his hips down onto Danny's crotch. He makes Danny watch him, head on, he doesn't allow Danny to avert his gaze or slip away. "I'm no woman, Danny." He repeats again.

Danny’s smile is wobbly, and he bites his lips. "I can feel that." He whispers when he thrusts his hips up to brush their hard-ons together. Steve's face shows a deep shade of passion, and lust explodes in his eyes. "I need you to love me like that, Danny." Steve's glance flickers a bit, but he keeps watching Danny's eyes. He lowers his head and presses a quick kiss to Danny's lips. "I'm yours, Danny. Love me the way you want me, possessive, needy – you can't smother me with your love, babe. You only can strengthen me with it. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Steve kisses Danny long and slow and a full body shiver shakes him hard when Danny parts his lips to search for his tongue.

"Yeah, I hear what you say," Danny mumbles between kisses. "What does this mean? Are you –" His words are squashed between open mouth kisses. Steve covers Danny with his body and Danny can't stop moaning. His hips circle and rub against Steve's silky hard cock.

Their kissing intensifies, and Danny forgets how to think. Steve devours his mouth and plays with his tongue and every sane thought flies right out of Danny's mind. The buzz of the remaining alcohol is gone the moment Steve rolls his hips into his and the slickness of their mingling pre-cum makes Danny buck under him. Steve skids lower, dragging skin against skin, breathing heavily, moving his mouth slowly and seductively over Danny's arched throat.

"Danny, Danny – babe," Steve's hoarse voice hardens Danny's cock even more. He still can't fully process what's going on. He curses in his mind and lets himself fall into Steve's arms. Danny knows Steve will always catch him.

"Touch me, Steve. Please, I need you – to…touch me." Danny braces his heels against the mattress and his body bends like a bow, tensed and hard, when Steve grabs his cock and jacks it off with strong, steady moves, gliding down his length, playfully and knowingly.

Danny feels lifted into heaven. He's missed this _so much_. Strong, hairy arms manhandling him, shoving him higher up on the bed. Steve's knees push his thighs apart to glide between his parted legs while he steadily works his cock. Danny's hands run over Steve's flat chest, brushes over his hard nubs and the puckered skin of Steve's nipples. He pinches a stiff nipple between his finger and his thumb and growls when Steve moans. Danny voices his pleasure and a need he hasn't felt in ages. He fucks into Steve's fist. The constant pop of strong, hard muscles under his hands make Danny weep slick pre-cum into Steve’s calloused palm.

"Moan for me, Danny. I want to hear you." Steve hushes his words into Danny's ear while the strokes are steady and strong. Steve works his cock with a knowledge that fills Danny's chest shortly with jealousy. His cock isn't the first one Steve holds in his hand. "I'm yours, Danny." Steve's dark voice caresses Danny's mind and he let himself sink into the heat Steve stirs to life in his body. He thrusts his hips with greedy moves into Steve's fist. He gets his cock fucked, moaning like a slut, dirty and lewd.

His throat feels raw because he can't stop groaning like crazy. Steve's hand knows what to do with his cock and Danny fucking loves this feeling to be taken care of, to be held by muscled arms and to be pressed down with a strong hand, forcing him to stay still, to take the desire that burns like fire under his skin.

"You're so beautiful, Danny, look at you." Steve rubs his hand over Danny's heaving abs. Danny thought he might lose his mind when Steve's fingers find their way between Danny's legs, spreading his cheeks and fingering into his cleft, stroking over his puckered opening and further up over his balls, weighing them in his hand while he watches Danny closely, massaging his cock with a steady speed, skilled and with just the right amount of pressure.

Danny spreads his legs willingly, not getting nearly enough of Steve's fingers. He wants more of Steve's touches. Danny rocks his hips into his big, rough hand. Steve stops for a moment to spit onto Danny's cock. He watches as the drop of saliva lowers slowly, hanging on a thread before it falls onto Danny's plump, red head. Steve grins at Danny, wicked and seductive, spreading the slickness with his thumb over Danny's swollen head. He stares him down with blown pupils that shine with emotions dark and full like an inner sea. Danny gets lost in Steve's gaze with his mouth hanging open, gasping. 

His hands touch Steve everywhere. Danny runs his hungry fingers over every bump, every curve, alongside Steve's muscled rib cage, his strong, corded back and over the swell of his fine, taut ass. He's crazy for Steve, still processing the moment and the truth that Steve is in his arms. Danny holds on to him, willingly following his love and his need to make Steve his.

Danny catches him when Steve crashes onto his mouth, rolling his hips with his legs wrapped around Steve's body while he works Danny's spit-slick dick. "I want to come with you. I want to look in your eyes when you come for the first time with me." Danny hurries to say before he pulls Steve onto his mouth to kiss him stupid.

Steve only groans low between open mouth kisses and Danny grabs between their bodies to cover Steve's hand with his and to add more pressure. He fumbles until Steve's cock is firmly in his closed fist. Danny loves the sound Steve ejects from his throat, spilling into his mouth. But Steve shoves his hand out of the way and his lips suck a mark onto the sensitive skin below his collarbone before his long fingers hug both cocks. Danny needs a moment until he's one with Steve's rhythm to fuck into his fist, both cocks pressed together.

"Can you come like that, Danny?" Steve rasps.

"Fuck, yes. Hell, yes." Danny lifts his head to chase Steve's mouth.

Their bodies move as one. Danny holds Steve's face between his hands, carding his fingers through his hair, sucking at his tongue, and letting Steve sweep him away with an unknown, strong lust that licks into his body. They kiss messily and watch each other closely, talking with their eyes and with their hands.

Danny doesn't say anything when his orgasm builds up. Steve's soft, lopsided smile tells him that he sees everything in Danny's face. 

"Come, Danny, show me how much you love getting fucked by my hand. I wanna see." Steve whispers between gasps and rough panting.

Danny's chest inflates and desire simmers hot under his skin. Steve said the words like it's the most natural thing to do, talking dirty, having sex with his partner. He smiles down at Danny, watching him. Steve looks beautiful with his hot face and with the sweat running down his temples and his red-kissed glistening lips. He lowers his head to kiss Danny deeply and to catch his growl when Danny's abs harden and his hips stutter. Steve fucks him through his coming, not slowing down, with his cock rock hard and moments away from coming, too. Danny's cum covers Steve's fingers and it makes everything even wetter and slicker and real.

Danny wraps his arms around Steve, pulling his face down to lick into his open mouth when Steve comes undone in his arms. His cum is warm on Danny's stomach and Steve's throaty groans make Danny tremble with an unknown satisfaction. Steve gasps and growls and comes like forever. Danny pushes him a bit off his chest to watch how their cocks are still gliding through Steve's fingers. Their heads are red and their cum mingles on Danny's stomach. To watch Steve's sperm shoot out of his cock is the hottest thing Danny has ever witnessed.

"Love you," Steve says with a broken voice and sinks onto Danny's chest. He catches Steve and for a long, silent moment they just breathe, wrapped safely in each other's arms, seeking the comfort they both missed for so long. Danny can't stop stroking Steve's soft, heated skin. His words sink slowly in, making Danny's eyes sting.

"Love you so much, babe," Danny whispers in Steve's hair. He wraps his legs around Steve and holds him tight like an octopus, pressing him down on his body. He needs the weight on top of him, this slight scratching of body hair against his skin and the strong smell of their sex in the air.

Steve is slack in his arms and his breathing calms down. "Move in with me, Danny." His voice is mumbled by the way his face is mushed into the crook of Danny's neck.

Danny's world stutters to a halt for the second time this morning. For a short moment, he pants and Steve lifts his head with an alarmed facial expression. "Sorry, this – it came just… it was only a thought. Sorry, Danny –" Steve moves and tries to shove his body into a better position but Danny doesn't let him. His grip tightens, and he pulls him back down to push his face into Steve's throat.

"Can you say that again." He doesn't care how his voice breaks at the end. Danny hugs Steve almost desperately. "Say it again, Steve." He repeats.

"Move in with me, babe," Steve says with a steady, clear voice before he kisses every spot of skin on Danny's face his lips can reach. "Will you move in with me?" Steve repeats with a soft sigh.

Danny's chest is heaving. "Why do you want this?" It's irresponsible how much Danny wants this to happen, maybe it's insane. And maybe it's only the afterglow talking, and Steve will change his mind after he thinks about how this should work out because Danny's not alone. He has Gracie. Steve's a SEAL and a man and Danny has no doubts that this is just what completes his own world. But does he complete Steve's world? They'll find out how to get along. But he also needs Steve to explain and to convince him that he's in for the long haul.

Steve watches him carefully and Danny sees the storm cumulating in his eyes. Without another word, he gets up and walks over to the bathroom. "Do you have a washcloth or something?" Danny hears the water running and he bites his lips and he swallows past to lump that grows in his throat. 

"Take the – take the towel. I don't have a rag. Wet a part of the big towel." Danny tries to be brave, tries to keep an even look on his face. He won't show how much his chest caves and how wild his heart thumps anxiously waiting for Steve to come back, to shatter his dreams.

"Don't worry, Danny. I have a guest room that could be Grace's room and I'll sleep on the couch when you have a Grace-weekend. I don't want to get you in any trouble with your ex-wife, and I don't want to scare your little girl because she doesn't understand why her dad sleeps in a bed with another man. But I want you close. I can't go back to my place knowing you live in this flophouse." Steve stands by the bed and doesn't meet his eyes. He cleans the cum from Danny's abs instead.

"I'm not a charity chase, Steve." Danny sits up and snatches the towel from Steve's fingers. He rubs the remaining cum drops from his stomach until his skin shows an angry red. "I appreciate it, so much, for Grace. I know you want to help me, but I hope this isn't the only reason. Moving in with someone is big, Steve, and with us, there might be a lot of arguments involved. I don't know. I've never lived together with a man. Are you sure about that? Won't you regret it?" Danny drapes the towel over his lap. He feels so naked and wishes for nothing but being back in Steve's arms.

Steve makes him scoot over a bit and sits by his side firmly squashed against his body, not letting Danny create any distance. He leans over and braces his hand against the mattress at the side of Danny's thigh. Steve's so confident in his nudity and Danny worries his lower lip between his teeth, fidgeting with the towel. He's nervous and he sweeps his gaze over Steve's face and back to his fingers.

"I want this, Danny." Steve clears his throat. He lifts his hand and cups Danny's cheek, turning his head to meet his eyes. "I want you – this. Us together." He is lost for words and Danny knows Steve isn't good at expressing feelings, but he needs to hear it, all of it. Danny reaches for Steve's hand and laces their fingers together. He leans forward and kisses Steve gently, hoping this helps him to find the right words.

"I'm –" Steve sets his jaw and Danny sees right through him and the struggle he fights to overcome this inner hurdle. "I'm emotionally fucked up," Steve leans back but Danny grabs his forearm, clenching down on his hand. "Shit, that didn't come out right." Steve scrubs with his hand over his chin, sighing deeply. "I'm broken, Danny – I know you know that. I've lost a lot of my family and my father's death is – is still so fresh. But…yes, I have my issues and I'm maybe not ready to talk about it, not yet. I don't – I'm not good at emotions and I know I suck at relationships. I don't know how they work, but I want to find out – with you. I want you in my life, Danny. Please give me this chance. I love you. I don't want – " 

He stands up and strolls over to Danny's small kitchenette, slipping out of Danny's grip. Steve randomly opens the few cupboards. "Do you have coffee in this meager household?" He bends down to open the fridge only to close it with a bang, leaning with his hips against the countertop. Steve stands there in this full glory, naked, steady but so insecure, fingers playing with the battered towel next to the sink. Danny looks straight into his beautiful eyes which are darker, clouded by emotions, and Steve's chest heaves under the pressure of inhaling with control.

Danny glides from the bed, hoping he wouldn't keel over on his way to his man. Without a word, he slings his arms around Steve's waist and drowns in warmness and naked skin and the love that Steve so willingly offers him, although it freaks him out to a point where he seeks distance, afraid what Danny might have to say.

"Have you any idea that it's nearly impossible to think straight when you strut around fully naked, bending down, showing me your ass and letting me watch you as if it's the most normal thing in the world?" Danny licks over Steve's hard pecs, groping his ass and give it a good squeeze.

Steve chuckles and pulls Danny close, holding on to him as if he's the light Steve always searched for to follow. "It is the most normal thing, babe."

"I'm just as broken, Steve."

There's no answer at first, just kisses to the top of Danny's head. Danny waits. Steve words rumble in the back of his throat. "I want everything with you, Danny. I want this to be a 'forever together' deal. I love you, Danny. I don't want to wait. I don't need a test phase or some shit like that. I know you have Grace, and I can't wait to fix her room. I can't wait to see your clothes lying around and to prepare your coffee in the morning. I want you, Danny. I want everything with you and I want it now." Steve talks with his lips buried in Danny's hair, swaying on the spot.

Danny pulls Steve impossibly closer and hides his face in the broad planes of Steve's perfect chest. He rubs his cheek over his chest hair with his heart in his throat. "How long have you been into me?" Danny asks.

"From day one." Steve's voice is filled with a lifetime of feelings, accumulated to spill at a special day when he meets his mate.

"Why haven't you ever tried to make a move?" Danny feels hurt, it could have been so much less painful for both of them.

Steve blows air out of his mouth and tucks Danny's head under his chin. "I always had the feeling your personal space has the shape and energy of a porcupine, spiky as fuck. I don't know, Danny, but you drew the line every day unmistakably clear with the invisible message for me to back the fuck off. I couldn't come near you. First, you didn't let me, and second – " Steve hugs Danny with both arms wrapped around his neck, pressing his face into his chest. He rests his cheek on the top of Danny's head. "You have been married, Danny. You've always talked about women. How could I ever know you're interested in me? Huh?"

The tears run down Danny's face. He blames it on the hangover. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't know what else to do."

"Hey, shh, we did it, right? We're here and nothing will stop us from building our life together."

Danny nods and lets Steve heal his chafed heart.

"What about breakfast? Do you really have no coffee in your kitchen?" Steve's big hands are gliding over Danny's firm ass, playfully stroking every inch with his fingers and wandering off in all directions.

Danny exhales with a soft moan. "No, sorry, no coffee. I'll take your offer for pancakes if it still stands?" Danny shuffles closer, breathing against Steve's skin, utterly distracted by the way Steve's caressing his thighs.

"It still stands. Pancakes with coconut syrup and coffee." Steve cups Danny's neck and strokes with the back of his knuckles from his other hand warm and solid over Danny's abdomen, making Danny weak in his knees. He feels Steve's cock nestled between their bodies. Danny's nerve endings are singing with a newly awakened desire, pulsing dark and strong through his veins.

"I prefer boysenberries," Danny answers but he's still totally occupied to feel Steve up and to knead his firm ass cheeks. "I'm not ready yet for coconut or pineapple."

Steve laughs low. "Why am I not surprised? Nobody eats pancakes with boysenberries. This is – ugh, just not right. Coconut syrup, yes, but of course Danny needs boysenberries. I know just the best place in town for us then." He pulls his head back and brackets Danny's face between his hands. "What about moving in with me, Danny?" There is was again, this short, shocked expression in his eyes, as if he still waits for a final blow. "Are you crying, Danny?" Steve looks a bit terrified. His soothing strokes help Danny to rein in his spreading emotions which seem to be all over the place. 

"A bit." He mumbles half ashamed to be such a stupid sap and a big idiot with this soft heart.

"We'll do fine, babe," Steve assures him, leaning down, pulling him closer.

"I'm not crying because I'm scared, Steve. I'm – it's so overwhelming, all of it. You and I, here in my shabby apartment, _naked_ , after our _first sex_. I mean – it's crazy, okay?" Danny admits and smiles shakily against Steve's chest, with his tears running down his cheeks.

Steve's hand skid nervously over Danny's back. "Are you dodging my question? You still owe me an answer about moving in with me."

Danny hears the worry in Steve's voice and he hurries to answer and to calm his tensed nerves. "No, I'm not – I'm not dodging your question. Jesus, Steve, of course, I'm in! I'm in, babe! I'll move in with you, you goof. I love you, so fucking much, and I want to build a life with you. You and me and Grace." Danny wants to express so much more but everything is so overwhelming.

Steve keeps stroking his body with his soft fingertips that are traveling over his curves and his skin, through his hair on his shoulders and further up, carding through his hairline at the back of his neck. "It means the world to me that you think of Grace, Steve. She's my everything but of course, I'm scared, too. I'm always scared to fuck things up. I love you and I just – I just want us to be okay and hopefully happy and deal well with being partners at work and at home." Danny sinks back into Steve's arms. "I don't want to stress over chores and empty coffee cups and small, meaningless shit. I just want to be with you, working, seeing my little girl, having a normal, boring, wonderful life."

Steve smiles wide and boyish. "We're together, Danny. Nothing will go wrong. We have each other. It's going to be our home, babe. It's going to be okay." Steve shuts him up before he chimes in and Danny melts with the way Steve owns his mouth. "Promise me only one thing, Danny. Talk to me if you're angry or upset with me or with something at work. Talk to me, don't hide it from me, please. Can you promise me this?" Steve manages to ask between their intense kissing.

It dawns on Danny why Steve wants that. He pulls his head back to lock eyes with him. "I won't drink, Steve. Even if we fight, and even if we have disagreements, I won't touch alcohol to forget. Don't worry about that. Everything has changed. You're with me now."

"Love you, babe." Steve tucks him against his chest and Danny feels how the strain leaves Steve's muscles, sighing and sagging a bit into Danny's tight hug. "I have some boxes in the garage. What do you say we pick them up after breakfast and come back here?" Steve murmurs into Danny's hair.

"You want to move my stuff today?" Danny's voice is filled with wonder.

"Yes." Steve breathes out. "You okay with that?"

"Yes." Danny swallows past his tight throat and wells up again, hiding in Steve's arms and it finally slips into his mind that this is real, that Steve wants this, too.

"I want to be your home," Steve whispers in his ear. He kisses Danny's wet face and thumbs his tears from his cheeks.

"You already are my home, babe, and if you want to help me stop crying, then you have to stop saying the sweetest things in the world," Danny whispers back.

Steve's eyes are glassy, too, and Danny huffs out a laugh because they behave like besotted idiots. Steve grins and kisses him. "Okay, why don't we start to get dressed. I'm starving, and I need coffee, lots of coffee." He pinches Danny's ass and circles his hips seductively. "And then I'll make you drink lots of water, and maybe after moving your stuff we can go for a swim, and what about some barbeque tonight? A small celebration just to two of us." Steve kisses Danny's face before he sweeps Danny's mind blank with a dirty, tongue-filled, and long kiss.

"You're unbelievable." Danny leans into Steve's touch, humming in the back of his throat. His heart doesn't want to calm down. 

"But you love me," Steve whispers with a smile.

"Of course, I love you, babe, so freaking much. You know that." Danny sighs happily with weak knees and with his arms looped around Steve's torso. "And yes, to everything that you have in mind. It's beautiful. I like it. Let's do that."

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://cowandcalf.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you very much for reading!


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